Author's Note: Hello, readers. This is the first fan fiction I've written. This story is purely a work of fiction and while employing the use of my artistic license, I have tried to make many details as historically accurate as possible. Grace Andrews, her mother, and her friend Lily are all fictional characters which I am weaving into this historical event, and they belong to me. I shall be using James Cameron's characters in this story because I like them...as characters, and they will help with plot development. Furthermore, when writing this I pictured these people looking and acting as they did in his movie. I know it isn't an accurate depiction of some characters, but I prefer it in some instances to the truth. For example, I prefer James Cameron's depiction of Harold Lowe as a selfless hero versus the historical depictions of him being a flippant racist - no offense to Mr. Lowe or his family. The only people I shall be painting in a negative light are J. Bruce Ismay and some of the fictional movie characters I mentioned previously. Also, I have yet to decide if Ellen Whitehouse will exist in this fan fiction or not...it depends on how I decide to end the story. I believe that is all that I need to say about my story. I hope you enjoy it.
Never an Absolution
Chapter 2
Grace was awakened early the following morning by a firm, but polite knocking on her hotel room door. She stumbled groggily out of bed and grabbed her robe, putting it on as she walked to the door. She opened the door and was greeted by a maid employed by the hotel. "Good morning, miss," the woman said. "Your father sent for me to help you get ready."
"Thank you," Grace mumbled before crossing to one of the two windows in her room. The South Western Hotel in Southampton overlooked the White Star Line docks, and Grace had been fortunate enough to have a room with a view of them. She marveled at the large ship through her window and watched as the dock around it slowly began to come to life with crewmembers, workers, and early arriving passengers milling about. She could hear the small sound of dishes clinking coming from behind as the maid worked to set her breakfast on the table. She was pulled away from the magnificent view only when the maid called her over to the table. Reluctantly, Grace left the window and crossed the room to sit at the table and eat her breakfast. She nibbled on a piece of toast as she watched the maid straighten her bed linens and pack the clothes she had worn yesterday, which had been cleaned overnight.
The maid then turned to her and asked, "What would you like to wear today, miss?"
Grace stared back at her for a moment, thinking, before finally responding, "I don't know. You can decide if you'd like."
This statement seemed to confuse the maid. She stared quizzically at Grace for a moment before turning to her trunks. Grace studied the woman as she worked. She was older, probably in her fifties, with grey hair that was pulled into a tight chignon and skin that was tanned and weathered by the sun. Her thin lips were pursed and her eyes were squinted in concentration. After a few moments the woman pulled an ensemble from Grace's trunks. She placed it delicately across the bed before entering the bathroom to prepare Grace's bath.
Grace stood in her hotel room and stared at herself in the full length mirror. She had to admit that the maid had done wonders for her appearance. Grace looked the part of the lady she ought to be. However, the woman could not change her heart. She sighed heavily as the maid placed an oversized hat atop her head and ensured its placement with a hatpin. When she had finished, she stepped back to admire her work, "You look lovely, miss."
"You do look lovely." The two women turned quickly towards the door, only to find her father standing in the doorway."
"Are you ready, darling?" Her father asked.
"Yes, father," she replied.
He motioned to someone in the hallway, and she watched as two men entered to retrieve her trunks from her room.
"Shall we?" He questioned, offering his arm. She accepted it graciously and allowed him to escort her through the hotel. She was glad when they stepped outside and she could breathe the fresh air. She could smell the sea and longed to feel the cool water on her feet like she had as a child. However, she knew that she would not get that opportunity, at least not until they had reached America. As they made their way toward the dock that housed the great ship, Grace could feel the excitement growing inside her.
As they approached the gangway, someone from behind them called, "Thomas." They both turned and saw a man walking towards them. He was tall, but not nearly as tall as her father. He was thin, too, with dark brown hair and a thick mustache, and he wore a brown suit.
"Mr. Ismay," her father greeted with a warm smile. The two men shook hands before her father continued, "You remember my daughter, Grace? Grace, this is Bruce Ismay, Chairman of the White Star Line Company."
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir," she said softly as Mr. Ismay politely placed a kiss upon her hand.
"The pleasure is all mine," he responded. The two men began to talk and Grace turned her attention to the massive ocean liner before her. She looked up at the ship that towered over the dock and the buildings around it. She marveled at the size of it and was anxious to explore its decks.
"…Grace?" Her father's voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Yes father?" She questioned.
Both men chuckled at her reply and her father said, "We were just wondering if you were ready to go aboard?"
"Yes, of course," she exclaimed enthusiastically, her eyes lighting up. The men chuckled at her once again, before leading her onto the ship.
Once aboard the ship, they parted ways with Mr. Ismay and made their way to their staterooms. Grace got a quick look at the reception room as they walked towards the staircase. She was awestruck by everything she saw. The first class reception room had white walls and ceilings with intricate designs on them, and there were wicker tables and chairs inviting you to enjoy afternoon tea with them. The staircase was made of oak and had intricate black and gold ironwork for balustrades. Grace had never seen anything quite so beautiful.
As Grace and her father ascended the staircase they did not talk. There was no need for conversation. Grace could survey the ship without his guidance. They climbed slowly, though, and she knew he did this so that she could take everything in. When they reached the A deck, Grace had to stop in her tracks. She stood in place for a moment, craning her neck for a better look before her father said, "Why don't you go have a look, instead of hurting your neck." She smiled at his teasing her, and then made her way to the bottom of the staircase. She stepped onto the first step and touched the feet of the bronze cherub sitting on the middle railing at the bottom of the staircase, and then looked up at the large glass dome. She did not realize that she had quit breathing until the discomfort had built up in her chest. She took a deep breath and slowly made her way up the staircase to the landing, where there was an intricately carved clock. She lightly traced her finger over the design before turning to her father and proclaiming, "It's magnificent, father. No ship will ever compare."
"Thank you, Gracie, but I'm sure there will be others that will surpass her."
"Maybe in fifty years," she laughed. He shared in her laughter, and led her towards their staterooms when she had rejoined him at the foot of the stairs. Their staterooms were behind the grand staircase, towards the bow of the ship. They turned down a narrow hallway that had the same white ceilings and walls as the reception room, and then he opened the door to her stateroom.
Her stateroom had oak paneled walls and, inside the upper panels, there was olive wallpaper with a gold scroll design. A large canopy bed adorned with olive bedding that had the same gold scroll pattern on it as the wallpaper, and solid olive curtains on the bed posts was the focal point of the room. The furniture was all made of oak and the curtains on the window were the same as the ones on the bed posts. She turned to her father and smiled, "It's beautiful. Thank you."
He smiled warmly back at her before saying, "You're welcome. My room is just across the hall from you." He paused for a moment and then continued, "I'm afraid I must leave you for now. Duty calls, but I shall come and get you before departure. I'm anxious for Captain Smith to see you after all these years. Your trunks should be arriving soon, so you can get to work unpacking them and settling in for our journey." He then kissed her forehead and was off.
Grace decided to do as he suggested and wait on her trunks. She had plenty of time to explore the ship, and she knew her father wanted to give her a tour. So she removed her hat and lay across her bed, and waited for the arrival of her trunks and the stewardess that would assist her with unpacking.